1:40 p.m. x 2003-10-14
hmm...what was today like? upon first waking up, i was visually bombarded by the darkness' video, but alas it was on mute and i was lazy, and i didn't hear the song. i like their schtick, though.
uuugh i just felt creepy and weird all over the place today. if i had anything better to do with my extra class time i'd stop bringing my books in because i'm getting a bit irritated by the conversations they start. if i was in the mood i'd explain how this relates back to my paranoia and all the different manipulative elements of social interaction and depravity this could lead to, but i figure i've made myself look strange enough just by implying this.
*le sigh* - things have just been weird. it's hard to put across exactly, but they have been. it's possibly just me. in fact, it's more than likely just me - as things are, despite all, the nicest they've ever been. all this niceness just happens to coincide with a lot of personal problems unrelated to my social wellbeing (it's as much of a shock to you as it is to me - i have an issue or two of my very own). if anything happens to threaten, or look threatening, or whatever - endangering the niceness, i'm poised for attack and ready to make things alright again.
it isn't a new obstacle, but rather one that never stands to be easy no matter how many times you deal with it - that the thing just happens to be someone's behavior, and not only do they not know it's causing a rift in everyone's karma, but it's also unlikely that they'll stop before they do something drastically idiotic.
and so, other than battling karmic evils - i've been doodling plans for my installation. so far some very good ideas have popped up, while all hopes for a common theme has been abandoned. it's just going to be three little walls of myssi-ness. black and white myssi-ness, as pencil is my preferred medium.
pssst, this was an absolutely brilliant little experience. i read that and lying simultaneously, and while that's a very good book too - the painful clearity with which renee recounts her loss of reality is much more honest and disturbing than lauren slater's romanticized, poetic metaphores about epilepsy. both are equally enaging, just in different ways - and of the two i prefer renee's memoir.
i was talking with my mother the other day and i've decided a "safe" career ("a real career" if you'd like to be pessimistic) would be in art therapy. even though i'm getting a chance to read more into it now, my revitalized interest in the problems of others isn't what made me decide on looking into this, despite what my mother's deduced. it's more of a revitalized interest in people. and this seemed an infinitely more healthy route than art teacher.
i'm apparently the only one in existence who's never had a single teacher that made school "fun". i don't know how to feel about that, but somehow i think it'd be uncomfortable to find school "fun". if school was "fun", the entire fabric of my morals and ethics and understanding would collapse in on itself and time would cease to function and all life as we know it would zip off like god pressed "off" with his diety remote.
in short: the world would end.
hmm...so far, i believe i've completed my xmas book shopping. already, yes. except for two books i'd particularly like to see under the tree - the kennedy men and the myth of sanity. and perhaps bright red scream. and bongwater. perhaps i'm not quite finished (and while it isn't a book - i must acquire "blue velvet" or i'll explode).
on a closing note, WHOA - screw men, I'M IN LOVE. good night everybody, <333.
if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start